Authors: Julien Ayotte
Flower of Heaven (17 page)
Julie was destined for medical school at Vanderbilt University in Nashville and Bob was mulling an offer to sign with the Boston Red Sox organization. As an outstanding outfielder for Louisville, Bob had achieved a .380 batting average in his senior year, blasting twenty-one home runs. He also was known for his remarkably strong and accurate arm as an outfielder, all the qualities of a potential major leaguer. Julie, on the other hand, sincerely thought that she would have little time for any relationship while attending Vanderbilt where the demands of her time in medical school would not allow much of a social life. So, Bob and Julie reluctantly agreed to put their personal plans on hold as they both needed to focus on their professional needs. They agreed, however, to write to each other and to plan to meet somewhere over the Christmas holidays each year, plans that would somehow never materialize.
Bob had a successful rookie season for the Red Sox in 1975, spending half of the season on the AA affiliate of the team but being promoted in July of that year to the Sox’ AAA team in the Pacific Coast League. During the off-season, and especially during the winter holidays, Bob returned home to Louisville. Each time he attempted to arrange to meet Julie during this period, each time he would get a reply by mail from her stating she would only have a few days off in December and felt it necessary to spend those with her parents in Somerville. After all, they were paying a great deal for her medical education and that was the least she could do.
The following February, Bob was invited to the Red Sox spring training camp in Winter Haven, Florida. Although very excited at the opportunity to show off his skills, Bob realized that he was being reviewed by a team that had just lost the World Series in 1975 and, as an outfielder, would be up against three of the best active outfielders in the major leagues. He realized all the possible scenarios that could happen to him. If he did well in spring training, he might accompany the team back to Boston and serve as a substitute for any of the three outfield starters. As the team badly needed another starting pitcher, one of the starting outfielders might be traded for a top pitcher, opening the way for him to gain a starting role. Lastly, he himself might be traded as a top prospect to a team needing an outfielder. All of these things ran through Bob’s mind as he prepared to leave Louisville in February of that year.
Bob decided to drive to Florida from Louisville and bid farewell to his parents and younger brother Ben a week before training camp began. By showing up early, Bob figured to make a good impression with the team management and, he did. Spring training went well and Bob’s hitting and fielding impressed everyone including the fans. He was destined to stay with the team as they headed for the home season opener in April against the Detroit Tigers. His primary goal was to continue to improve in both the field and at the plate. This, he believed, would eventually get him into the starting lineup, if not with the Red Sox, with another team.
Passing the time away when not on the baseball field was something Bob never liked. Except for baseball, his life was empty without Julie. He would go for long walks along Commonwealth Avenue in Boston and would stop at Boston University’s campus, find a quiet bench, and read books. He was not your typical jock.
On a very warm and humid day in July of that year, during one of the team’s extended home stands, the Sox had an off day on a Thursday and Bob and his roommate decided to go to the Lenox Hotel bar on Boylston Street for a bite at lunch.
As they sat quietly at a table in the bar, he was startled by a voice from behind, “Hello Bob.” To his surprise, there stood Julie, as beautiful as ever in a white medical jacket and carrying a pile of books. He rose so quickly that he almost stumbled, his heart beating so fast that he could feel it.
“Julie, is it really you, what are you doing here?” He didn’t know whether to hug her, to kiss her or shake her hand, a very awkward moment from someone with so much self-confidence on the ball field. “What are you doing here?” he repeated. “Come sit down, tell me what’s been happening with you. I didn’t think I would ever hear from you or see you again.” Before Julie could answer, the roommate rose from the table and told Bob that he had several errands to do and excused himself.
“I’m at B.U. med school now, Bob, transferred after my first year at Vanderbilt. My dad lost his job last year and Vanderbilt was just too expensive for him to handle, so I live at home in Somerville and commute here to B.U. I just finished my second year and start again in August with an internship at Mass. General while continuing here at B.U. My dad just got another job but I think I’ll finish up here. B.U. has sort of grown on me and Massachusetts is still home to me. I missed not getting together at Christmas time like we had planned and I think of you all the time, my big baseball star. Where are you living? I was going to call your parents in Louisville and get your address here in Boston.”
“You knew that I was playing for the Red Sox this year?” he asked.
“I may not be a jock like you, Bob, but anyone playing for the Red Sox gets talked about everywhere, even among medical students.”
They sat at that table for hours until Julie mentioned that she had to get home for dinner because her parents were expecting her.
“Would you like to have dinner at our house tonight, Bob, or do you have other plans?” Julie asked.
“Well, I’ll have to cancel my three dates for tonight, but I’d love to meet the rest of the Laflamme family again. Why don’t we walk back to my place, or take a cab, it’s only about a mile down on Boylston, and we can then take my car to Somerville. That way I can drive back later tonight.”
.
Julie and Bob were married in October of that year following the close of the baseball season. The Red Sox were not in any post-season play in 1976 but Bob’s performance that year was sure to gain him a starting position the following spring. After a honeymoon in the Caribbean, Bob and Julie settled in a lovely house in Medway, away from the hectic pace of Boston.
In 1978, Julie received her medical degree and interned at Mass. General. While Bob’s career in baseball continued to flourish over the next eight years, still with the Red Sox, Julie settled into a podiatry practice in the Medway community. In early 1987, at the Red Sox training camp in Florida, Bob suffered a broken collarbone when he crashed into the outfield wall chasing down a fly ball. Following extensive rehabilitation in the next four months, calcium deposits were detected in the injured arm forcing him to miss the entire season. After winning the American League in 1986 and being one strike away from winning the 1986 World Series, everything went wrong for the Red Sox in 1987, not just Bob Elliott’s injury. After losing on opening day, the Sox never were in contention the whole year. Replacing Bob in the outfield was a newcomer and rising star, Luke Jones, along with several other rookies forced into starting roles due to other injuries on the team.
Now at age thirty-five, Bob Elliott’s career was ending and in October of 1987, the Sox informed him that they would not renew his contract unless his arm strength was back to normal, something that Bob knew was unlikely to happen. Fortunately, Bob owned two restaurants in the area and had always wanted to spend more time developing wedding receptions and other high-class functions, as there were but a few restaurants large enough in the area to handle this type of business. In the off season, Bob had always spent a great deal of time at each location while still having a lot of free time to spend with Julie on ski trips and short vacations in warmer climates. Perhaps now would be the time to start a family, before Julie’s biological clock ran out. The two had discussed this and were not shying away from moving forward. Bob’s folks were wondering if they would ever be grandparents since Ben was not married yet and still lived in Louisville. He had followed in his father’s footsteps as an engineer in the ceramics business for a local manufacturer.
The Elliotts from Louisville would visit New England each year at Thanksgiving, and this year was to be no different as Bob had planned for his parents and Ben to spend that week in Medway. In addition to the customary Thanksgiving dinner, there were tickets to the Patriots, Celtics, and Bruins squeezed in, as well as dinner at each of Bob’s restaurants planned.
.
Karl Pelland knocked on the door at 5 boulevard des Agneaux in Paris. The house was a three-story brick structure with three mailboxes outside.
“Bonjour, monsieur,” Karl said to the elderly gentleman. “I am looking for a Mr. and Mrs. Elliott that once lived at this address in the ‘70s. Do you remember these people, monsieur? I am trying to locate them on an urgent matter.”
“Americans. Carl Elliott was an American who lived here for just a year. Nice couple with a baby. I believe they went back to America, yes they had passage, I remember, on a ship,” mentioned the elderly man, explaining that he owned the building and often corresponded with former tenants. The Elliotts were no different as Judy would send photos of Robert at least once a year following his birthday or as part of a family picture at Christmas.
“Would you have an address for the Elliotts?”
“Why should I give you their address, I do not even know who you are?”
Karl flashed his American Embassy card and explained that there were items that they were holding for the Elliotts from years before and the embassy just wanted to see if the Elliotts wanted these items returned to them, nothing serious but, if the embassy could not locate the family, the items would be thrown away, mostly records of their stay in France.
“The cards and pictures were stamped from Louisville, Kentucky, monsieur, that’s all I know. I have not heard from them now in almost fifteen years. The boy in the pictures would not be a boy any longer, say about thirty-five years old or so. I did not know the second boy in the pictures later on, he was called Ben. I have the pictures, would you like to see them?”
The phone rang at Jim Howard’s apartment in Providence at 9:00 p.m., 3:00 p.m. Paris time. An excited Karl Pelland was at the other end of the line.
“Jim, Karl here from Paris. The second kid’s in the States, last address in Louisville, Kentucky. He’s got a brother named Ben and his parents are Carl and Judy Elliott, gotta be in their sixties by now. I don’t have any more on the kid, Robert Elliott, but I think you can take over from here since he’s likely somewhere back there, maybe still in Louisville. Jim, another thing though, the old man in the building told me I was the second person asking about the Elliotts. The other guy was Arab-looking, wearing a dark suit, and speaking with a heavy foreign accent according to the old man who gave him the same information you’re getting right now. Apparently, the Arab was very generous with the French francs for the old man.”
“Holy shit, Karl, this is getting serious here. Okay, I’ll take it from here. Thanks for your help and not a word to anyone about this.”
“Right now, Jim, I don’t even remember who you are, let alone these two kids. Good luck with this, I hope you find him before someone else does.”